The Blind Beauty of it All
by StainedFingertips
Summary: The BAU travel to Hawaii to track down a narcissistic bomber who is terrorizing High Schools in the area. But when one agent temporarily loses his sight, will the UnSub get away? Or can he still crack this case: Blind or Not?
1. Prologue

"Clear!" Agent Aaron Hotchner- known as Hotch to his team- shouted as he burst through the room. Finding it empty, he let his gun rest to his side. The two-story house was as common as it could get; no one would have ever realized it belonged to a psychopathic man who got off on watching innocent people explode. The walls were a light yellow, decorated with various paintings. Afternoon sunlight crept out of the slightly dirty windows, giving the living room an ominous glow.

Jonathan Davis, his team's latest UnSub, was suspected to have bombed several high schools in Hawaii. The entire team was excited to go to the Aloha State, and even though Hotch himself couldn't wait to soak out the nightmares of the job under the sun, he had to remind his team to focus.

"It's clear down here, Hotch", replied Emily Prentiss through her earpiece, making the device slightly tickle his ear.

"Bedroom's clear," confirmed Derek Morgan as he walked into the living room and returning his gun to its holster.

"I don't think anyone's home, Hotch," David Rossi sighed, climbing up out of the basement with Prentiss behind him.

Aaron quietly sighed and rubbed his forehead. He surveyed his forlorn agents, looking at Morgan's irritated face to Rossi's calm expression. Wait a second-

Rossi.

Morgan.

Prentiss.

Where were his two youngest agents?

Rossi must have realized the two were not here with them, because his hand moved to his earpiece and he asked, "JJ. Reid. You guys almost done up there?"

"Yeah, be down in a second," came JJ's voice.

True to her word, JJ came down the stairs about a minute later with her blonde ponytail swaying slightly behind her.

Before anyone could ask, she raised her hand, effectively stopping their questions. They had a tendency to want to know where Reid was at all time; he was the youngest, and even though he was in his mid-twenties, he was the baby of the team and nobody could argue with the fact that the young man always seemed to find trouble. Or trouble seemed to find _him_, Reid always pointed out to them. And even though he was a "boy genius", (as Garcia, their bubbly technical analyst, liked to call him), his common sense level was not nearly as high as his IQ.

"Spence is just going through some of Davis' journals," JJ replied, smiling slightly, "He'll be down in a couple minutes."

Hotch nodded his understanding and decided it was time for a new time game-plan.

"Alright. Let's look around and see if there's anything to help to see where he's been or where he's headed," he instructed as he began to look around the living room, scoping out for any signs of danger. "Oh, and remember," Aaron began, staring directly into his subordinate's eyes, "this guy is a narcissist that won't hesitate to take out any FBI agents. Be careful."

His team nodded, and began searching the house. The sun was beginning to set, making the sky look like a beautiful work of art containing various shades of yellow and oranges and reds. Morgan sat down at the computer and began to fiddle with his cell phone getting ready to call Garcia. Rossi and Prentiss were situated in the kitchen, examining the cabinet and utensils searching for anything that could be valuable to the profile. JJ was searching through some papers and Hotch began to profile the living room when he heard it. No, wait. He _felt _that.

Before anyone had time to react to the tremors that were shaking the Davis' house, a blast of flames engulfed them from upstairs and time seemed to slow down after that. The random explosion startled everyone. JJ screeched and Prentiss ducked her head. Rossi shielded Emily and Morgan tumbled out of his chair onto the floor. The realization struck Hotch like a blow to the gut. Reid was still upstairs. He tried to run up the stairs, but the fiery beast was too much for his body. Stumbling back down the stairs, the last thing he did before the darkness consumed him was pray for Reid to be alright. _Or at least alive._

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><p>Uhm, hello! This is my first fanfic and I just thought it would be a cool idea. Let me know if I should continue this or not. Thanks! :)<p> 


	2. A NotSo Good Morning

**A/N: Hello! This is chapter two of this story. I've decided to continue this story because of the positive reviews I got. Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Zip! Nada! Ziltch! Well, except the story. 'Cuz I wrote it. :)**

**Warning: No slash, and mentions of people being blown up. Not your thing? Then please don't read.**

**Enjoy the story!**

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><p><em><strong>*74 hours before explosion*<strong>_

It was dark. Oh-so very dark. And it wasn't the kind of dark where one could make out some features in the murky shadows. It was pitch-black dark. The kind of dark that creepy UnSubs hid in. The kind of dark that would have small children cowering in fear. The kind of dark that Dr. Spencer Reid was deathly afraid of.

Spencer Reid walked aimlessly down a narrow hallway. He wasn't sure where he was or how he got here, but he knew he had to get at the end of this hallway. Or something bad would happen. Something very bad. His bare feet padded down the white concrete floor. It was so very quiet. It was way too quiet. Spencer gulped, trying not to make too much noise. Each footstep he made sounded like a knife cutting through the silence. It sounded disrespectful. It sounded unwelcomed.

An involuntary chill went up his spine. He forced himself to breathe in and out. In and out.

In.

Out.

In...

"SOMEBODY HELP ME!" screeched a female voice.

It pained Spencer's heart to hear a scream that high. But there was something else about that scream. Something. . . familiar. He gulped in a pound of air before dashing out into a mad sprint. The hallway was getting longer, and the once white walls were now dripping with a velvety red substance.

"Mom!" he shrieked, urging his body to go faster. If he could just run like Morgan, he could save his mother. Alas, Spencer's body was not built for physical activity. He was a man of old, dusty books that no one else cared to read. Not a man of sweaty gym equipment that every alpha male in the world abused.

"Spencer!" came the voice again, slightly higher. It sounded more panicked.

_Oh God, oh God oh God... _"Hang out, Mom. Just hang on. I'm coming!" he panted, noticing a small light at the end of the never ending hallway.

Spencer came closer and closer into the light, until he came upon the door. Flinging the door open, he saw something he never imagined he would see.

Spencer Reid's mother was on the ground. Very lifeless. Very pale. Very _dead_. And covered in blood.

**xCMx**

He jolted out of bed with a gasp, quickly taking in his surroundings. His dark blue comforter was on the ground with two of his pillows. His smaller blanket was around his waist, providing warmth for his shaky and sweating body. Turning his head slightly, Spencer read his alarm clock. _4:07 am_, he thought, _Might as well get up now. _Rubbing the back of his hand across his sweaty face, he tried to erase the images of that god-awful nightmare from his eidetic memory. Spencer shakily stood up from the damp bed, wrinkling his face in disgust when he glanced at the sheets soaked in sweat. Sighing, he went into the bathroom connected to his bedroom and splashed cool water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror, relieved that some of the color started returning to his face. Running a hand through his new "boy band" haircut, Spencer descended from the bathroom.

His bare feet padded onto the hardwood floor of his dining room. For a young bachelor, his apartment was remarkably clean. Folders were resting on an oak desk in the corner of the living room and various pieces of art were placed delicately on the walls. A small, creme-colored couch was placed against the corner of the living room sitting in front of a 30-inch Television set with "Doctor Who" DVDs piled on the floor next to it. With a bookcase leaning against the opposite wall and a purple, (**dark** purple; it was _definitely _not pink, despite what Morgan said), beanbag in the middle of the floor, the living room looked kind-of empty. Well, except for the piles and piles of books covering everything; there were books stacked high next to the couch, a couple of books scattered across a glass coffee table, and more piles in other various places. The room looked like it belonged to a college student who was desperately trying to pass tomorrow's exam, not an FBI agent's.

Spencer turned on the coffee machine, patiently waiting for the sweet, brown liquid to finish brewing. To pass the time, he absently picked up a random book and situated himself in the beanbag chair. Sinking deeper into the comfortable chair, he sighed in contentment before launching himself into the book. But before he could fully engross himself in the words, a loud, rather annoying, sound began to play in the empty apartment. Spencer tried to locate the sound and after a few seconds of trying to figure out where that annoying noise was coming from, he looked down at his black flannel pants and purple hoodie. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed his cell phone and pressed the answer button.

"Hello?" Spencer greeted, his voice still slightly muffled with sleep.

"Hey, Spence. We got a case." JJ answered with an apologetic voice.

"Okay. Be there soon. Bye JJ."

After JJ said her good-bye, he hung up the phone and sighed. He walked around his apartment to get ready to face whatever terrors the job held for him today.

**xCMx**

Spencer Reid strode into the bullpen with his usual messenger slung over his shoulder. Tiredly rubbing his eyes, he walked upstairs into the meeting room to get briefed with the rest of his team.

Spencer walked into the meeting room and sat down. Picking up the case folder, he sleepily rubbed his eyes and unsuccessfully tried to smooth down a rebellious curl on the top of his head. After glancing at the pictures, he took a sip from his coffee and folded his arms on the table, letting his head drop. The rest of the team stared at their youngest, trying to stifle a laugh at how tired Spencer looked.

"Well, good morning Sleeping Beauty," Morgan said a little bit too loud, earning a groan from Spencer.

The young man mumbled something, but with his head on the table, they couldn't be too sure; it sounded something along the lines of "Shut up, Morgan."

Morgan chuckled and Rossi leaned over to ruffle Spencer's hair, earning them another groan.

Hotch nodded to JJ with a serious expression, but everyone could tell from his eyes he was laughing on the inside.

"Okay, listen up guys," she proclaimed as she started the briefing, "For two weeks, there have been reported bombings in Pearl City, Hawaii. The UnSub has been targetting high schools around the area. The bomb has always been planted in the basement until last afternoon. The bomb was planted in the school science lab. A couple of kids were staying after school working on a project that was due the next day,"

Using the remote, the media liaison pulled up pictures of two students. Both were smiling happily in school clothes. On the left was a photo of a girl no older than sixteen with blonde hair that hung at her shoulder with bangs resting on her forehead and deep brown eyes that were looking at the camera shyly. On the right was a picture of a young boy, probably the same age as the girl. Long, curly black hair was covering one of his eyes and his light blue eyes were filled with amusement and youthful energy. Both kids were sitting up tall with their hands on their laps posing for a school picture. Morgan swallowed the large lump in his throat; it was always bad when kids or teenagers were victims of the world's injustice.

JJ clicked a button on the remote again, but instead of happy teenagers on the screen, two dead bodies were sprawled out amongst rubble that most likely used to be the science lab. Stools were knocked over, and everything was covered in debris or ash from the bomb. The blonde girl was laying on her stomach, spread as if she were getting ready to fly. The boy next to her was on his back with dirt covering his face and clothes.

She sighed, turning back to her team. "Amy Hendrickson, sixteen years old and Greg Williams, fifteen. They were reported missing early last night when neither of them returned home. Parents informed the officials and police officers were sent to investigate the high school. When they got in the science room, everything was buried in debris and both kids were DOA."

Everyone curiously looked over at Spencer, expecting some sort of odd statistic, but were surprised to hear soft snoring from the young profiler. Looking up from his tablet, Hotch debated on whether he should reprimand him for dozing off during a briefing or letting Morgan wake him up. He decided on Morgan. Looking at said profiler, he met his eyes and jerked his head towards Spencer and allowed a small smile to slip through the cracks of his normally serious face.

Morgan smiled deviously before taking out his iPhone and pulling up an application. Turning the volume up all the way and holding his phone close to the sleeping profiler, he pressed his thumb down on the virtual air horn, making an obnoxious noise come out of the device.

Spencer jolted up out of his chair with his brown hair sticking up in all directions. He looked over accusingly at Morgan and glared daggers at the older profiler.

Everyone laughed at the look on his face; Reid could not pull of the Hotch glare. It ended up looking something like a wounded kitten.

After everyone calmed down and Spencer was slightly more awake, Hotch cleared his throat and announced,

"Alright. Let's get UnSub before more damage is done. Wheels up in 30."

The team filed out of the briefing room and got ready to head to Hawaii. It was time to catch this 'Sub.

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><p><strong>Oh, and I will be updating frequently. I will try to every day, and updates will probably be posted at night. I'm seeing that awesome movie The Hunger Games tomorrow, so I'll probably post in the afternoon. Thank you for reading!<strong>


	3. The Aftermath

**A/N: Aye. I'm actually seeing the Hunger Games TOMORROW now, curse you parents (just kidding), and the next update will probably be in the afternoon. Sorry I posted this kinda' late, I was having a bit of a writer's block, but now I planned out the story and things have gotten significantly easier! Yay. I might post again later on tonight. Or... tomorrow? *cough.* ANYWAY, chapter 3!**

**Disclaimer: I own do not own Criminal Minds. Or the characters. But it would be pretty awesome if I did. O_O**

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><p><em><strong>*Two Hours after explosion*<strong>_

Pain.

It seemed to be everywhere; in his legs, his head, his chest. It felt like something was sitting on top of him, but he couldn't be too sure; the only thing he could be absolutely sure of is that he was in a lot of pain.

Hotch forced himself to open his eyes but instantly regretted it. A blinding pain shot through his head, making him want to crawl under a rock for days- or maybe even years.

Trying again, he opened his eyes once more and tried to blink out the pain. After several more attempts, Hotch gingerly sat up.

For the second time that day, he regretted his decision.

A bookcase that once was leaning against the wall was toppled over with a large piece of debris sitting on top of it. The walls were barely even standing and the ceiling had large cracks in it. Paintings were covered in ash and soot; completely covering the work of art. A couch was flipped on its side, also covered with ash, and large pieces of material were scatted everywhere.

But the worst part of the bombing sight was spotting his team mates sprawled everywhere. They looked so lifeless; yet strangely peaceful at the same time. Ash was delicately raining down from cracks from the ceiling, showering the living room. Moonlight peeked out of a breach in one of the walls making the scene look even more terrestrial.

Morgan was face first in the ground with a small trail of blood leaking from the side of his head. His legs were sprawled out awkwardly and both arms were over his head. Hotch cringed at one of Morgan's arms; it appeared a part of the chair lodged itself in his upper right arm.

JJ was lying a few feet from Morgan on her side. She seemed to have no serious injuries other than the large cuts on her arms and legs. The clean, white shirt she was wearing this morning was now cut in some places with patches of blood seeping through it. Her blonde ponytail had black powder in it and some strands of hair lay limp in her face.

Emily seemed to be in the same condition as JJ; scratched and bruised. Nothing major.

Rossi was the one to thank for that.

The older man had blood in his hair that was slowly trickling down his aged face. Pieces of the ceiling lay near him, missing him barely. Emily was right next to him on her stomach with one of his arms wrapped protectively around her. Looking away at the disturbingly large chunk of roof crushing Rossi's back, Hotch decided to think of a way out of this mess.

But something stopped him from doing so. Something was tugging at the back of his mind. A youthful face with brown, carefree eyes and curly brown hair.

A face he knew so well. But he couldn't place a name on the person. As if he were drowning in the memory. Was it a memory, though? Hotch couldn't be too sure.

Focusing back on his team, he tried to determine which one he should try to wake up first. Morgan and Rossi had head injuries, so not them. Maybe he could try one of the girls? Emily was too far away, so that only left JJ.

"JJ," He inadvertently cringed at how weak and raspy his voice sounded.

"JJ!" He demanded the young blonde to wake up; to just open her eyes.

"JJ, get up," He tried once more, becoming a bit more desperate.

Before the Unit Chief's worry had escalated too much though, JJ stirred. A moment later, she reluctantly opened her eyes and blinked owlishly.

"Hotch?" she mumbled, slowly turning over to look her friend and co-worker in the eyes.

"What happened?" Sitting up, she groaned softly and pushed defiant pieces of hair behind her ear.

"We walked into the UnSub's trap. He must've set a bomb somewhere. We didn't even realize to send in a bomb technician before going in." he admitted sadly.

Silence.

Looking over, Hotch watched as JJ's blue eyes turned dark and filled with tears.

"JJ?" Crawling carefully over to his younger team member, he became uncharacteristically gentle for a moment.

"Hey, JJ? You alright?"

Turning glassy eyes over to Hotch, she asked in a broken voice,

"Where's Reid?"

Something clicked in his mind and Hotch imaged the young brunette once more. Dr. Spencer Reid who was 27 years old. Dr. Spencer Reid who held three doctrates, had an eidetic memory, and an IQ of 187. Dr. Spencer Reid who was the youngest member on his team. Dr. Spencer Reid who had a huge and forgiving heart.

...

**Dr. Spencer Reid who was upstairs when the bomb exploded.**

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><p><strong>Uhm, so that's the end of chapter three! Everything will kind of tie together in the end, so sorry if it sounds confusing right now.<strong>

**Thanks for reading and reviews are welcomed. :) **


	4. The Case

**A/N: Hello! I'm super sorry I didn't get to update yesterday. I went to see the Hunger Games, and it was the BEST! I had to do a science project as well. Plus, I had some Writer's Block. So, not fun. ANYWAY; This chapter kind-of sets the plot up with more details of the case, and the next chapter will have lots of Reid in it. There will be tons and tons of updates during Spring Break, so stay tuned!~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, but if I did, it would be on. Every. Day. :)**

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><p><strong>*18 Hours Before the Explosion*<strong>

"This doesn't make any sense!" Morgan declared as he angrily slammed his tablet onto the table.

The team had been working on this case for nearly two days now and there was absolutely nothing. Zip. Nada. _No_-thing. Add that to the fact that the group was running on fumes and a whole lot of coffee, and you got yourself a bunch of irritated profilers.

"Let's go over the case one more time," Exhausted, Hotch ran a hand over his face.

"There have been reported bombings over the past two weeks. So far, the UnSub has bombed Pearl City High School, McKinley High, and Radford High. Each of the bombs were placed in the janitor's closet and there were no fatalities until last week." JJ recited.

She was almost 100% positive that this case file would be forever burned into their minds for years to come.

"Amy Hendrickson, sixteen, and Greg Williams, fifteen. Parents said they stayed after to finish up a school project but didn't return home. They called the officials, the officials called the police, and the police found the remains of the science room." Morgan picked up from where she left off.

"The profile suggest the UnSub is a male in his late twenties to early forties with knowledge of engineering. He most likely was bullied in High School due to physical or phycological differences and terrorizing high schools is his act of revenge," Reid added, still paying attention to the bulletin board filled with pictures of the two victims, the crime scenes and the bomb fragments.

He squinted at the bomb fragments. Something caught his eye, but he was so tired he supposed his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Finally, he gave up at studying the board and sat down in a black chair next to Prentiss and Morgan. Emptying his ninth- or was it his tenth? Reid wasn't sure, he lost count at sixth- coffee cup, he sighed and placed his elbows on the table.

"Morgan's right. This case makes no sense at all," Prentiss said exasperated, "I mean, this guy is extremely bipolar. He blew up a high school on May 26, then stopped until June 2nd. Then, he goes all psycho and blows up two teenagers on the 12th. Wouldn't that mean he were escalating? Where's his spree?"

By the end of her rant, she was even more confused. Admitting defeat, Prentiss thumped her head against the table.

"Em's right. Why isn't this 'Sub going on a bombing spree and blowing up every high school he can?" JJ rubbed a hand across her face as she became more angry.

"It would be nice if UnSubs were handed us on a silver platter, but since that is not the case, we must focus on this. Capeesh?" Rossi, who went unnoticed until now, was lounging on a computer chair while his feet rested on another one. His arms were neatly folded across his stomach and one eye peeked at the younger members of the team.

"Yes sirs" were mumbled, and Hotch heard Morgan add an "Old hypocrite" under his breath.

Rossi smirked and sank deeper into his make-shift bed; it were times like this Hotch really enjoyed having the older man on the team so he didn't have to have the entire responsibility of stern Unit Chief to himself. Maybe he could rest for a little bit. . .

His thought of relaxation were destroyed, however, when a young cop came through the room and declared,

"We've got another bombing."

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><p><strong>*18 Hours and 46 Minutes Before the Explosion*<strong>

He looked up at the roof of Castle High School and frowned.

_"Higher! Higher!" The little girl cried, pushing her legs forward to try and get to the desired height._

_"Alright, hold on sweetie!" The man laughed as he grabbed the swing, pulled back, and sent the girl flying into the air._

_The girl giggled, her curly brown hair being flown across her face from the breeze of a perfect summer afternoon._

He would make them pay. He would make them all pay.

Purposfully walking into the school, he wiped a hand over his face to rid him of the happy little girl he used to love so much. He re-tucked his shirt and pulled the "UPS Delivery" base ball cap down on his head.

**xCMx**

Oh, what fools the school staff were! He smirked as the office lady barely even noticed him as he walked with his clip board secured in his arm. Quickly, he walked into the male's bathroom and closed a stall. Taking off the rediculous uniform, he smiled slightly and remembered She used to love to play with dresses and fairy wands and-

_Pay attention! You're doing this for Her! You can't do this if you're going to distract yourself!_

He nodded, even though nobody was there. He briskly pulled up his dark, blue jeans, put the hood of his dark blue sweatshirt over his shaggy, blonde hair and tied his dark, blue converse. Gripping the straps of his dark blue backpack, he headed for the Locker rooms.

Peeking his head inside the Girl's locker rooms, he breathed a sigh of relief; he may be bombing a high school, but he was not a pedophile.

His calmly entered the locker room and searched.

10, 11, 12, 13, 14... Aha!

Locker 16.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered who this belonged to. No. He would not cry here. He would finish this for Her. He was going to accomplish his mission.

The man carefully set down the pack and dug out what he was looking for.

A device, no bigger than a notebook sat on the bottom of the book bag, just waiting for its job. Little red buttons beeped every few seconds, making tiny noises echo through the quiet room. Gently picking up the device that would send his message to the world, he placed his creation on the floor of the locker. Smirking, he picked up his pouch and speed walked out of the Locker Room.

**xCMx**

He calmly exited the High School and pulled his car keys out of his pocket with a smile. Others may look at this man's face and see happiness or just a pleasant facial expression. But his smile was not jovial or attractive for that matter; his smile was a narcissistic one. It was a victorious smile, a smile that would probably send small children running if he were to come in contact with them.

Looking over his shoulder, he noticed a couple of teenage girls giggling and entering the High School with their hair blowing in the wind.

He turned around the secretly sneered at their uniforms. God, how he hated that yellow skirt and the white vest.

_The man was jovially cooking when he heard a door slam and feet pound on the hardwood floor. He set down the knife he was using to chop up vegetables and turned around. The sight that greeted him would fill his nightmares for months to come. His thirteen year old daughter- his little girl -had tears running down her face from blind eyes. The tears glistened in the dim-lighted kitchen and the girl's brown, curly hair was disheveled. One of her shoes were missing and her jeans and hoodie were ragged and covered with dirt. She sniffled before running and throwing herself into her dad's arms._

_"Oh honey," he murmered._

_He placed his chin on her head and softly stroked her hair. _

_"I d-don't understand why p-people hate m-me!" she sobbed into her father's chest._

_Sighing, he gently pulled back so his blue eyes looked into her gray ones._

_Her eyes were lifeless and filled with tears. He cursed the man that took away his baby's sight for the millionth time._

_"Sweety, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You're special but people don't realize it yet. But they will, and when they see how awesome you are, they'll beg you to be on the team." He kissed the top of her head and let her cling to him._

_However, he failed to notice his lonely fourteen year old son sob silently on the stairs. _

He ran to his car and wiped off the stray tear that fell down his face. Sitting down in the driver seat, he watched the teenagers get into the school and smirked.

Oh, they would_ all_ pay for causing his little girl pain. Looking at the clock in the car, his smirk grew even larger; he was gone for not even fifteen minutes. Still smirking evilly, he searched through his book bag once more and found a toy-like remote.

"Showtime", he whispered as he turned the dial on the side.

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><p><strong>*17 Hours Before the Explosion*<strong>

Sighing, Hotch inspected the remains of the Girl's Locker Room. Four girls were caught in the explosion this time. Four lives were cut short. That was four too many in his opinion.

Reid was looking over Victim Number One's body; a thin, red haired girl who was flat on her back with blood seeping out of the cuts she had all over her body. Her lifeless hazel eyes were staring blankly ahead and her yellow cheerleading uniform was turning black from ash.

After he finished inspecting the body, Reid swallowed the lump in his throat as he placed a gloved hand over her eyes and slowly got up.

It was always so hard when they were just kids.

Victims Numbers Two, Three, and Four were in the same position as the first victim; thin boddies, bloody limbs and ash-covered cheer leading uniforms.

"Damn," Morgan whispered as he opened up the gym locker which contained the bomb. But instead of a bomb, there were millions of tiny little pieces scatted at the bottom of the locker.

JJ and Emily were checking over the other two victims while Rossi observed the fourth.

The BAU were so caught up in their job, that they almost didn't notice a lanky, young teenager with straight blonde hair that rested just below his ears hover in the hallway. Except for one member.

"Uh, can I help you?" Reid asked politely, watching as the teenager's eyes looked at his face.

"I saw him," he whispered.

Reid, and now the rest of the team, raised an eyebrow.

"Who did you see?" Hotch stepped in, instantly going into profiler mode.

"I saw Him. That-That man who..."

The teenager closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Opening his eyes once more, he announced,

"I saw the guy that blew up this room."

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><p><strong>Cliffy? Ish? Maybe? Not really? Okay, I'll stop now.<strong>

**I promise just one more "flashback" chapter and then I will unleash the real story.**

**Thank you for reading and reviews are appreciated! :)**

**A/N#2 (4/9/12): Hey, sorry for not posting in a while! I had a lot of stuff going on and I was kinda' wondering what exactly I was going to do with this story. But I had a flash of brilliance (Garcia-quote? :D) and I have figured it out! Expect Chapter 5 later on tonight.~**


	5. The 'Witness'

**A/N: Hey! It's me again. Sorry about the delay in chapters, I had a busy week but now since it's Spring Break, expect a lot of chapters! I might even post two a day; depends on what I'm doing on that specific day, but uh. Yeah. I will be posting either at night or afternoon, because I review them during the day or, uhm, yeah. Anyway, enjoy! :)**

**Disclaimer; I do not own Criminal Minds, Doctor Who, socks, (well, I do have a couple of pairs of them,), or Sour Patch Kids!**

**Warning: One or two MILD curse words, and MILD reference to child abuse. Do not like? Then please, read a different story.**

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><p><strong>*15 Hours Before the Explosion*<strong>

The kid was slightly rocking back and forth in the semi-empty room; the only other person in the room was a young man with brown hair that was stylishly swept to the side. He hoped silently that he would not be there when the bomb set off. Maybe they would leave him behind. The man looked to be the youngest of the group, so he hoped- he _prayed_- that this man with gentle brown eyes would not be there to witness such destruction.

He sat in a comfy black chair with a soda bottle and packet of skittles on the table that a woman with blonde hair had placed in front of him earlier. When he saw the snacks on the table, he was tempted to rip open the package and guzzle down the soda.

But He wouldn't like that. He already explained to him that the only time he was allowed to eat was after he accomplished his mission.

He was actually acting a lot differently this year; last year He just seemed upset, (which was completely understandable given the circumstances), but this year, He seemed weirder. Jumpier. Scarier. But worst of all, He was a lot more violent. In fact, he got a new bruise on his face when he forgot to make the bomb due to a science project Mr. Paterson had assigned after the first "mission." Luckily, his long blonde hair had prevented nosy adults, (CPS specifically), from seeing the nasty, purple shaped hand mark on his upper right cheek.

The door creaked open, and he watched under his long bangs as a stern man in a suit entered the office area. The young man looked up from his noted and smiled slightly at the older man, and surprisingly, the teenager watched as the corners of the man's lips twitched slightly. The older sat next to the younger, and the younger explained his geographical profile to his supererior without looking up.

Words like, "5 mile radius" and "UnSub" filled the room, but other than that, the teen didn't quite understand the other words. He glanced up briefly at the complicated language; the young man must be a genius or something.

Oh, God.

He bowed his head slightly and once again practically pleaded whatever God there was up there that this man would not come in contact with the bomb.

Looking once more, he saw the almost parental pride in the man's eyes as his subordinate explained the map to him.

_Huh_, he thought,_ He never looks that way at me._

He sighed inawardly; of course He would never have the parental pride a father would direct toward his son. He couldn't help but feel slightly jelous toward the slim man; no one was ever proud of him. Sometimes, teachers would congradulate him on a test or project that he aced, but they never had the same kind of pride that man directed toward his subordinate.

Hearing the door open again, he saw a muscular black man enter the room and sit down next to him.

"Hey, Kid," the man said, trying to get his attention.

He pushed down all of the thoughts he had previously thought and brought himself to look into look into the agent's warm, chocolate eyes.

_What if he was the one that got caught in the explosion? Did this man have any kids? A family? Maybe I could warn them. . . Maybe I could just-_

"What did you mean you saw a guy earlier?"

The agent's husky voice brought him out of his guilty thoughts and he swallowed any contemplation of this agent's family or friends that would miss him if he were to get blown up.

"I, uh," he stuttered.

He inwardly groaned; how come his voice couldn't be as strong and confident as His?

The boy swallowed and cleared his voice before continueing.

"There was a guy. Tall. He wore, uh, that delivery service uniform? Y'know, UPS or whatever?" He waited for conformation from the man before continuing; when the agent nodded, he started again.

"Well, he came in the school. I was just getting back from football practice," (That was a huge, fat lie), "and I was coming out of the guy's locker room before I saw the man."

"How do you know it was the man we're looking for?" The man asked another question.

"Uh, well," the kid began as he twiddled with his fingers nervously.

_What's with this kid? _Morgan thought as his noticed the nervous ticks and darting eyes the boy was displaying.

He was obviously hiding something, but Morgan was too excited to finally have a break in the case to notice.

"When I finished changing and I was gonna' leave, he came out again but he changed his clothes. He was wearing like, casual clothes. Jeans, hoodie, Converse, those kind of clothes. They were all, uh, dark blue, and he had blonde hair. I dunno if he noticed me or not, 'cuz I was still, like, in the doorway. Oh, and, he looked kinda' young but old. Like older than him," he explained as he pointed a finger at the young man with brown hair, "but younger than him," he finished, pointing a finger at the serious man in the suit.

Morgan nodded; so they were right on the age.

"Anything else?" Morgan asked, looking into young, blue eyes.

However, this boy's eyes didn't hold the same innocence that the victims displayed in the "before" photographs. No, this kid's eyes looked like they belonged to an old veteran who just returned from a terrible war.

"Oh, yeah," the teenager said, as if he remembered something, "He had this blue backpack on, too. It was like a school book bag and it seemed pretty important because he was really careful with it and stuff."

Morgan nodded.

"Alright, uh," the agent began.

_Crap, he didn't even ask the kid's name before they interviewed him._

"Thomas Walt Philips," he answered immediately, remembering the name He chose for him.

Morgan nodded and curiosly looked at the teen; whenever he asked a kid witness their name, they either gave him nicknames, last names, or simply their first name.

"Alright, Thomas. Just stay here for a little bit more and you can bust outta' here," Morgan said with a grin.

'Thomas' nodded and smiled a real smile. He couldn't wait to get away from the watchful eyes of the police and FBI.

The sooner he got out of here, the sooner this stupid 'mission' thing would be over and he could have his some-what father back instead of 'Sir', or 'Him'.

Morgan got up and took his phone out of his pocket.

He dailed in a number, and after a few rings, the person on the other end picked up and he hit the speaker button.

"Why, hello my Chocolate Adonis," the bubbly tech analyst answered with her usual just as bubbly greeting, "What can I do ya' for?"

"Hey, Baby Girl. I need a favor." Morgan smiled; he loved Garcia and their flirty calls. They helped distract him from dead teenagers and crazed UnSubs.

"Ooh, anything for you my Chocolate Thunder. But be prepared to repay that favor when you get back," she purred.

Reid looked up, slightly disturbed. He would never get used to Morgan and Garcia's talks.

'Thomas' looked up as well, and looked looked out of the corner of his eye to see the man grin and shake his head slightly.

"Hey, watch it. We have children in the room. Keep it PG-13, PG."

The teen almost smiled at the look of annoyance that flashed over the young man's face.

"Oh, right, right. Sorry Junior G-Man," she said the last part a bit more loudly.

Reid blushed slightly; he hated being called "Junior J-Man", and yet he secretly loved Garcia's little nick names for him. She was like the older sister he never had, and he appreciated the socks that she set on his desk after a particually rough case, or the invitations to Harry Potter conventions his surrogate sister would give him.

Morgan laughed out loud at the look of embarrassment and slight pleasure on Reid's face.

"Anyway, I need you to look for any men in their late thirties that are engineers, are at least six-foot, like the color blue, and is middle-classed."

"Oh Handsome, I could get you his shoe size if you tell me what kind of foot wear he likes."

Morgan chuckled and debated on telling her the UnSub most likely preferred Converse.

"Alright, I got five names," Garcia told him after a minute or two of fingers clattering against keys.

"The UnSub has blonde hair and has at least one child," Reid raised his voice slightly so Garcia could hear him.

"Alright, one name: Johnathan Davis. He has two kids; Samuel Davis and Taya Davis. They- oh, no." Garcia's voice broke off and silence filled the room.

"What's up, Baby Girl? Whatcha' find?" Morgan asked with concern.

"Well, uhm, Taya Davis was found hanging in the closet of her bedroom. She committed suicide, Angel Face," she explained sadly.

She found the picture of a healthy, teenage girl that appeared to be about fourteen. She was smiling, and even though the corners of her mouth were wide, the girl's eyes held a different story; her eyes were gray and empty. They were filled with sadness and the smile on her mouth didn't reach her lifeless eyes.

"Taya was blind and from her medical reports, it appears that she was bullied. Baddly, too. School princibal said he once saw poor Taya running away from a group of cheerleaders about a year before she committed suicide. He said he didn't know the bullying was affecting her so badly until she hung herself." Garcia shook her head at the sad story of the young girl's life, and couldn't help but to think of Reid. She was definitely going to be sending her baby genius a pair of mix-matched socks and have a slumber party consisting of sour patch kids and Doctor Who after this case was over.

"When was the date she committed suicide?" Hotch asked from across the room.

"May 26, 2011."

"Isn't that the date the first bombing started?" Morgan asked.

Reid nodded and Morgan sighed.

He wasn't exactly sure if it was a sigh of relief or a sigh filled with sadness.

"That's our stress-or." Morgan declared.

"Also, he was in fact an engineer with a flimsy IQ of 154 compared to our baby genius' 187." Garcia commented happily.

Morgan laughed again, and Reid threw him a glare. Hotch couldn't help but smile too; Garcia seemed to be on the handful of people that could make him do that these days, (the others being his team, of course.)

The teen's mouth opened a little bit. And he thought He was smart.

"So, apparently, his boss said that John-O went kinda' physco and got violent and reckless the past few months. And he just so happened to get fired about a month ago. Coincidence? I think not!" she told them with a smile in her voice.

"Okay, Baby Girl. I think we got enough to at least check out his house,"

"Farewell my fine, feathery friends! And Baby Boy," she said, earning Reid's attention," me and you are going to have a slumber party later! No if and's or buts about it or you will pay the consequences!"

With that, they heard a pen hit a key and knew Garcia had hung up.

Said man blushed again for what felt like the hundreth time that day; Reid still didn't understand how Garcia could get his face to burn up with a simple sentence.

Smiling, Morgan looked at Reid.

"Ooh, I would say what she says 'Baby Boy'," Morgan laughed as Reid threw a piece of crunched-up paper at his head.

Rossi then entered the room and watched as the paper ball landed at his feet.

He looked over in Reid's direction and threw him a stern glance.

The oldest then decided to help out the youngest and picked up the paper ball and effectively hit Morgan on his forehead.

He heard Reid try and hide his giggle by putting a hand on his mouth.

"Oh, that's how you wanna' play it, Old Man?" Morgan asked Rossi.

"Bring it on, kid." Rossi challenged with his arms spread open in a "come-at-me-bro" gesture.

Then, before anyone knew what was happening, everyone was engaged in a paper war.

Somehow Morgan got on Reid's side, and the younger men were facing the older.

'Thomas' couldn't help but smile. He was glad these agents could enjoy life right now before they went after Him. Who knows; maybe no one would get caught in the explosion. Maybe they would all make it out alright.

The boys ceased fire as they heard the door slam open and two women staring at the room in shock.

Prentiss smirked and looked at the men while JJ put on her best mother look she could muster.

The boys were all frozen to their spots.

Morgan was currently crumpling up another piece of paper for Reid to throw, and Rossi was also making ammo.

Hotch was about to pick up a ball and Reid had one in his hand and was just about to throw it.

Seeing as her motherly look didn't stir Morgan, Hotch, or Rossi, she looked at the youngest.

"Reid," she said in a warning tone.

Reid gulped and looked at the other guys for assistance.

They all just smirked or shook their heads slightly.

Prentiss, seeing none of the guys dare go against JJ, secretly snuck over to Morgan and Reid's table and picked up a ball.

Flinging it at JJ, she laughed as the paper ball hit her square in the face.

JJ couldn't help it any longer; she burst into laugher.

Everyone else soon followed her, and Morgan explained to Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ what they found.

"So, we think that Jonathan Davis is our 'Sub?" Prentiss asked after Morgan was done explaining.

Hotch nodded, and everyone else seemed pleased with his answer.

"Alright, let's go get this son-of-a-_" Rossi commented as he began to stand up.

Everyone soon followed and began to depart.

Hotch went out to gather the police officers and get someone to get the teenager home, and the rest of the team got their vest, guns, and badges together.

The BAU walked out to the SUVs ready to face this case's monster with an air of confidence.

Little did they know that ten hours later, all hell would break loose.

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><p><strong>AN: Ooh. Suspense. Thank you for reading, there will be a chapter posted tomorrow, and reviews are appreciated! :D**


	6. Present Day

**A/N: Hola. Well, this is Chapter 6! Thank you guys for all the wonderful reviews and I apologize for some of the spelling errors. And, uh, I'm not sure if Hotch is very in character for this chapter. I'm not very good at writing about FBI Agents, lol. **

**THIS IS PRESENT DAY, RIGHT AFTER HOTCH REALIZES REID IS STILL UPSTAIRS! No more flashbacks! Zip! Nada! The other ten hours were like, planning on how to get in the house and driving and such. And I know you guys were eager to learn what happened to Reid, so I just skipped the boring discription of driving to the UnSub's house.**

**ANYWAYS- Enjoy this chapter and be on the look-out for more! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, or that song "Put One Foot in Front of the Other."**

**Warning: Slightly graphic scene at the end of chapter. NO SLASH. Do not like? Do not read.**

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><p><strong>*Present Day*<strong>

**_"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment."  
>-Buddha<em>**

"Reid!" Hotch cried out as he tried to get up. Wincing, he noticed that the pain from his chest decided to make itself know once more.

"Hotch, you need to calm down," JJ warned, "Paramedics are probably on their way already. It's okay, Reid'll be fine."

Hotch seemed to ignore her and continue to try and sit up. Pain seemed to be the only thing existing in his world at that moment, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the mental pain; the thought of losing his youngest agent and being so close to him was so much more excruciating than the actual pain that flowing freely in his veins.

He just had to get to Reid. Reid was practically his son, and he almost lost his younger son, Jack, to Foyet. He did lose Hailey to the infamous Boston Reaper, and if this UnSub thought he could waltz in Hotch's life and take another one of his family members, he had another thing coming.

Sweating and now physically exhausted, the Unit Chief managed to get on his knees and ignored JJ completely. He was going to do this, and he was going to be successful. There was simply no alternative. Whimpers and grunts escaped his lips as he pushed on one knee and then the other. Unfortunately, his body had other plans for him and he collapsed to his knees again.

Hotch wasn't sure why, but he remembered Jack's favorite song from a Christmas movie they watched months ago.

"I-If you want to change your d-direction," he whispered, his voice coming out gruff and unrecognizable, "If your t-time at life is a-at hand."

"Well, don't b-be the rule to the exception-n," Hotch painfully took in a sharp breath as he began to stand up, "A good way to start is t-to stand."

He was now on both of his feet and slowly began walking toward the stair case, being mindful of his fellow colleagues who were now starting to stir.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed JJ give him an encouraging smile as she began to check on the other team members.

Hotch clutched his ribs, took in a deep breath and continued to sing softly.

"P-put one foot in front of the o-other. And soon y-you'll be walking 'cross t-the floor. Put o-one foot in f-front of the other. And s-soon you'll be w-walking out the door."

His ribs and chest were practically screaming at him, begging him to stop walking. But he couldn't. He had to keep going, and he was not going to stop until he found his young agent: preferably alive.

By now, he was slowly climbing up the stairs and was half way up when he nearly lost his balance. Breathing once more, he willed himself to go further.

_"First piece for the birthday boy!"*_

Five steps to go.

_"Probably? I totally saved your life. And I'm pretty certain it was caught on tape."(1)_

Four more.

_"Ssst... two pairs. Of aces!"(2)_

Three left.

_"Is there any more Jell-o?"(3)_

Two.

_'You told me you were clear to travel, you lied.'  
><em>_'Naughty boy!'  
><em>_"No I didn't, I am a doctor so technically it wasn't a lie"  
><em>_'What was it then?'  
><em>_"Uhm... A second opinion" (__4)_

On the last one he nearly slipped. He closed his eyes briefly before finishing the painful journey up the stairs.

'_Physics magic?'  
><em>_"Yes, sir."  
><em>_'Reid. . . we talked about this.'  
><em>_"I'm sorry, sir."  
><em>_'You're really starting to get some distance on those.' (5)_

Hotch breathed a sigh of relief and couldn't help but give a small laugh of victory; it sounded dry and slightly bitter, but he could care less. He had made it up the stairs, and now the only thing blocking him and his injured friend was a door.

Trudging down the small hallway, he noticed pictures barely hanging on the walls. Pictures of a little girl happily swinging. Pictures of a man with blonde hair and an overjoyed face hugging a young teenager with beautiful, curly hair. But out of all the pictures, there seemed to be none with a teenage boy in them. Hotch began to ponder why this man didn't take pride in his son, but instead focused on the task at hand:

Getting to Reid.

He approached the dark, brown door rocking back and forth slightly, hanging loose on its hinges. The usually stern man swallowed a lump in his throat. If this is what the door looked like, then would Reid be the same: barely holding onto life?

With a hand still clutching his upper ribs and a hand resting on the damaged door, he wondered if he really wanted to see Reid. The young man was definitely hurt; probably in a very bad condition. But what if he were to push open the door and be greeted by cold, brown eyes that were once filled with gentleness and warmth?

_"I knew you'd understand."(6)_

Shaking his head, Hotch reluctantly pushed open the door, causing said door to creak.

The sight that greeted his normally grim eyes shattered the emotional wall he had built up in case of situitations like this.

The bedroom, probably once belonging to a teenage boy, was completely destroyed. Slightly grey pieces of blank paper were scattered everywhere, journals were lying upside-down, right-side up and side-ways, and pencils and pens were on the ash-covered carpet. The clock that was once hanging on the wall was now dangling helplessly from a single wire. Glass was everywhere, and ash was covering everything; the over-turned desk, the broken bed, the dark blue carpet. . .

"Ugh..." came a muffled voice, obviously filled with pain.

"Reid!" Hotch nearly yelled.

"H-H'tch," responded the small voice.

He frantically searched, until his eyes focused on the overturned desk. Behind it peeked a mop full of brown, curly hair with hints of grey in it. Curly hair that could only belong to one man.

"Reid!"

Hotch ran toward the desk, forgetting all about the pain that traveled from his ribs to his chest. All that mattered at that moment was getting to Reid.

He bent down and flipped the desk to the side and nearly cried at the sight.

Spencer Reid was kneeling slightly with his head bent down and his long, pale fingers covering his face. His white dress shirt was rumpled and instead of being tucked in, it was covering the younger man's tan khaki pants. The dark red tie he was wearing was almost falling out of its knot and the purple sweater vest was torn and messy. Cuts and bruises outlined the poor doctor with blood slowly dripping out of them.

Without a second though, Hotch knelt down next to the young doctor and slowly removed his hands from his face.

Reid's eyes were still tightly squeezed tight. Something was sliding on his cheeks and down to his chin, but Hotch couldn't tell exactly what the liquid was. Was he crying? Maybe he was just sweating from the heat.

But as he got a closer look, he wanted to curl up in a tight ball and sob.

Blood was leaking out of Spencer's eyes.

His _eyes_.

Hotch gasped in shock, and before he could utter a single word, two paramedics burst through the door.

One old man with slightly rumpled, gray hair rushed toward Reid while the woman inspected Hotch.

"Can you tell me your name, sir?" the old man asked Reid as he took out his medical supplies and began to set up a stretcher.

Reid let out a shuddering breath and answered, almost inaudibly, "Dr. Spencer Reid."

The man's eyes twinkled in amazement as he inspected the boy.

"Uhm, alright Doctor, can you tell me what hurts?"

"M-my eyes and my head." came the small response.

"Sir?" the woman tapped Hotch's shoulder and he nearly jumped.

"What's your name, Sir?" she asked with kind, hazel eyes.

"Uh, Aaron Hotchner." he said, confused. Why were these people wasting their time with such stupid questions when his friend's eyes were bleeding?

"Alright, what hurts, Aaron?"

Hotch wanted to laugh at that. A more appropriate question would be what didn't hurt.

"Everything," he responded with a slight laugh in his voice.

The woman looked at him oddly before helping him stand.

"Come with me, Aaron. We need to get you to the hospital." She gently tugged on his arm, but he refused to budge from his kneeling position.

Reid was still hunched over with his hands covering his eyes, and he seemed to be in a lot of pain.

But while he was focusing on the young man, he forgot all about the rest of his team that were also injured and downstairs.

"What about the rest of my team?" He looked at the woman, wondering if his subordinates were also on their way to the hospital.

By now, Reid was carefully being supported by the old man. The man was gently leading him toward the stretcher and getting ready to put the him on it.

"The people downstairs?" she asked; getting a nod, she clarified, "They're probably on their way to the nearest hospital right now."

Hotch let out a breath of relief. His family was on the way to the hospital and they were getting help.

He let himself be led to the stretcher and strapped in.

He looked over to his left and noticed Reid right next to him.

Carefully, he reached over with his hand and gently grabbed one of his subordinate's.

And for the first time in what seemed like hours, there was finally something right in the world.

* * *

><p><strong>*: Season 1, Episode 4; Plain Sight.<strong>

**1: Season 1, Episode 9; Derailed.**

**2: Season 1, Episode 12; What Fresh Hell?**

**3: Season 4, Episode 24; Amplification.**

**4: Season 5, Episode 3; Reckoner.**

**5: Season 2, Episode 12; Profiler, Profiled.**

**6: Season 2, Episode 15; Revelations.**

**Those are just the episodes I got the quote-thingies from. **

**Thank you for reading, and reviews are more than welcome!~ **


	7. A Starry Night

**A/N: Hey, sorry for not uploading. GAAH, I hate writer's block. But after drinking two cups of coffee, writing a cool 'lil One-Shot, and eating Easter Candy, I felt all energized and got some ideas! So, here is Chapter 7~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or Venus. -_- In fact, nobody owns Venus. But CBS owns Criminal Minds, so, uhm. Sad-face.**

**P.S~ I am not a doctor. I am a young teenager so please do not hold me accountable for issues concerning medical facts! I will try to make it as realistic as physically possible. Thank-you.**

**This chapter is kind-of in Hotch's Point of View, but later in the chapter you will learn what happened to the rest of the team members. **

***ONTO CHAPTER 7***

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><p><strong><em>It is the eye of other people that ruin us. <em>**

**_ If I were blind I would want, neither fine clothes, fine houses or fine furniture. _**

**_ -Benjamin Franklin _**

The ride to the hospital wasn't that long; in fact, it was rather short due to the fact that the sirens on the ambulance provided an almost get-out-of-jail-free-card for traffic. No, the ride was maybe fifteen, twenty minutes long. But for Hotch, the ride to the hospital took forever.

Every second passed seemed like an hour, every minute seemed like a day, every five minutes a week. Fifteen minutes may seem like nothing when you're relaxing in the safety of your house with a cozy blanket and a romantic comedy plugged into your VCR. It seems like nothing when you're enjoying a friendly conversation with your peers. But when your friends- your _family_- were possibly severely injured and you had no other choice but to get checked out yourself for injuries, every 900 seconds counted. Fifteen painful minutes. 900 excruciating seconds for Hotch.

And those fifteen minutes were also painful physically. Paramedics poked, prodded and talked as if he weren't even there. As if he didn't even matter. They discussed various medical terms that seemed to anger Hotch even more because he didn't understand what any of it meant. Reid would probably understand. Sweet, innocent Reid. Whose eyes had just been bleeding.

The image of Reid bloody and beaten on a computer monitor flashed through his mind like an old, forgotten friend. If he thought he felt useless then, the feeling of weakness presented itself even stronger as the ambulance drove through the streets. He was so close to Reid; Hotch was almost 100 percent certain that the younger man's ambulance was right in front of his. But he felt so very far away at the same time, like Reid was standing before him, but no matter how far he reached out, he seemed to move further and further away.

Just as Hotch felt the need to scream rather offensive to the paramedics who were now casually conversing their plans for the upcoming Friday evening, the ambulance finally pulled into Queen's Medical Center. Now slightly grinning, Hotch closed his eyes and felt the chilly night air brush against his face.

Looking up seconds later, he saw the beautiful night sky staring back at him. Stars smiled and seemed oblivious to the nightmare he was living or the black void behind them. A particular star that seemed brighter than the others glistened proudly, as if it shone just for Hotch.

"_Actually, the brightest object in the sky isn't a star. To the naked eye, people mistake Venus for a star because it has the highest albedo of any planet in our solar system. Venus is so bright because it reflects over 70 percent of sunlight striking it. It owes its reflective ability to the fact that it's completely covered with clouds. When the sunlight bounces off the clouds-" Reid's long lecture was cut off with from a large hand that was suddenly brought over his mouth._

"_I swear to God, Kid. If you say another word, I will get Garcia to photoshop you," Morgan warned in a dangerously low voice._

_Reid nodded quickly, understanding that Derek Morgan never gave an empty threat._

_Morgan took away his hand and grinned._

_The younger man sheepishly grinned back and turned his attention back to the night sky. _

Hotch almost smiled at the memory. He and Jack had just lost Hayley and the team came over to have a picnic to cheer them up. The BAU's presence seemed to calm him and Jack both, and after hours of gorging themselves with sandwiches, playing a few soccer games, and just having fun, they all watched the evening sky with all thoughts of UnSubs and every day nightmares out of their minds for the time being.

The sky looked the same that it had on that night, but the universe had not granted them the luxury of gazing up at the heavens carelessly like it had many nights ago. No, now the BAU family were separated all worried about the outcome of this atrocious event.

The sky was suddenly replaced with a painfully white ceiling with bright lights everywhere. Hotch once again closed his eyes and blocked out the rather obnoxious doctors. Feeling a prick in the crook of his arm, he opened his eyes and looked up at a female nurse with slightly apologetic blue eyes holding a syringe.

That was the last thing Hotch saw before a curtain of blackness engulfed him into a sweet bliss.

**xCMx**

Hearing was the first sense that came back for Hotch. Muffled voices, the sound of hospital booties scuffling against floor tiles, the beeping of a heart monitor. Next came the unmistakable smell of left-over anesthetics that made him wrinkle his nose slightly. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and squinted at the horribly white **everything**. The walls, the tiles, the door, the blankets. The only thing in the hospital room that didn't appear to be white were the four small, plastic chairs on the right side of the room and the pictures of happy children holding hands on the beach which were hanging neatly on the walls.

_How ironic_, Hotch thought, looking at the jovial pictures.

Why would someone hang up pictures of something so happy in a place so sad?

Putting a hand to his head, he realized the head-ache felt slightly better than it had earlier.

He could still feel the pain, but now it felt more dull, almost completely forgotten.

Hotch then remembered the extreme discomfort and pain he felt in his ribs and chest area after the explosion. Sitting up slightly, he winced, feeling slight discomfort still.

Suddenly hearing a timid knock and the door opening, he saw an old nurse shyly step into the room holding a clipboard.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Hotchner?" She asked him while looking over the sheets with curious, brown eyes. Her straight, blonde hair was ruffled with hints of gray in it.

"Better," he replied honestly.

The nurse gave a nod, apparently pleased with his answer, and glanced over his IV for a few seconds.

"Do you remember what happened?" She asked again, returning her attention to his apparently very interesting clipboard.

He nodded, and she finally looked at him, asking for a verbal answer with a stern gaze.

Sighing, he began, "My team and I were in an explosion. I was knocked unconscious, and when I woke up I checked on my agent who was upstairs."

Hotch's eyes widened slightly, remembering Reid's condition he found the younger man in after his long journey up the stairs.

"My team. Where's my team?" he asked urgently as he tried to sit up.

"Mr. Hotchner, your team is just fine. Some of them are waiting in the Waiting Room right now, and you can join them in an hour or so," she said calmly, trying to soothe the distressed man.

He relaxed slightly, but another question was still on his mind.

"What are the extent of my unjuries?" Hotch inquired, wondering if he could still work the case. Because one thing was for sure: that bomb had been planted in the house on purpose, meaning there was still a dangerous UnSub on the loose.

"One of your ribs were slightly cracked, you had a mild concussion. We gave you an anesthetic because we had to perform rather painful tests to see if your ribs were damaged. You've been asleep for about," she paused to take a look at her watch, "five hours. Right now, it's 1:23 A.M."

"Anything else you need to know?" she asked, knowing the usual questions patients would ask after experiencing events such as this.

Of course, she never had a patient who was an FBI agent and had been blown up with the rest of his team, but the same principals still applied.

"So, when can I go wait with the rest of my team?" Hotch wanted to leave this hospital room as soon as possible.

"If your vitals seem okay, I guess you can leave in about a half hour or so," the nurse informed him, once again scanning his clipboard.

Noticing a doctor approaching, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Just a couple more tests and he could get out of here.

**xCMx**

Hotch hesitantly walked down the hallway that lead to the waiting room, bracing himself. He wasn't sure how hurt his team was, and it was slightly unnerving.

Finally spotting a brown door with the words "Waiting Room" above it, he increased his pace.

When he approached the door, he closed his eyes to collect himself before pushing it open.

Four pairs of eyes greeted him.

The Waiting Room was a medium-sized room with white tiles that didn't seem as bright as the lights or the walls in the room he stayed in briefly.

Plastic, blue chairs lined up against the right and left walls. Two dark, wooden tables sat in the middle of the room with magazines about dieting and rumors of celebrities on the front covers. Paintings consisting of animals, scenery, and children hung on the wall accompanied by diagrams of exposed, human bodies and a blue rug sat in front of other chairs leaning against the back wall.

Sitting in those chairs was Hotch's team.

Morgan sat with his hands on his slightly bowed head. A white bandage covered the gash on his forehead and he had a long line of angry, irritated stitches running from his upper arm to his elbow.

Rossi appeared to be sitting stiffly in his chair with a bandage similar to Morgan's wrapped around his head. Hotch couldn't see it, but there was another bandage covering his back where the piece of roof landed on him.

JJ and Prentiss both had bruises and small cuts that were bandaged. Judging by their injuries and the hands tightly intertwined together, they were the first ones to be cleared.

Hotch walked towards them and plopped down in the available seat between JJ and Morgan. Rossi was sitting to Morgan's right and Prentiss to JJ's left.

Rossi had an arm wrapped around Morgan's shoulder and Prentiss and JJ were still clutching each other's hands.

Hotch just burried his face into his hands and wondered when life got so complicated.

Suddenly feeling something gently wrap around his wrist, he looked up and saw JJ's kind blue eyes and distressed smile.

Taking a shaky breath he took her smaller hand in his and saw Morgan's slightly hostile position.

He dropped his other hand from his face and uncharacteristically slung a comforting arm around the younger man's shoulder.

And the BAU family stayed weaved together, latching onto eachother for support until an old doctor in blue scrubs announced,

"Family of Spencer Reid?"

**_A day spent without the sight or sound of beauty, the contemplation of mystery, _**

**_or the search of truth or perfection is a poverty-stricken day; _****_and a succession _****_of such days is fatal to human life._**

**_-Lewis Mumford_**

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><p><strong>OHSNAP.<strong>

**Sorry, it just seemed like a good place to end! There will be another chapter updated shortly, because I already have the next chapter all planned out.**

**And, uh, sorry if it their unjuries seemed unrealistic for an explosion, but they need to be some-what healthy for Reid in the upcoming chapter. :)**

**Thanks for reading and I appreciate and love reviews! ~ **


	8. Revelations and Shade

**A/N: Ew, I'm sick! Which means lots of soup and tons of uploads? YOU GUESSED IT RIGHT. So, uh, this is Chapter 8. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews; I made it to fifty! *Wooh!***

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.**

**SORRY FOR ANY MEDICAL SITUATIONS THAT ARE WRONG/IMPROBABLE.**

**On with the chapter~**

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><p><strong><em> "To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there."<em>**

**_-Barbara Bush_**

The dictionary definition of a family is a group consisting of parents and children living together in a household.

Aaron Hotchner's definition of a family is right here, in the Hospital Waiting room with Emily's and JJ's hands locked together, the feeling of JJ's smaller hand wrapped in his, Rossi's arm slung around Morgan's right shoulder and his on the younger man's left.

So when the doctor walked in and asked for Spencer Reid's family, they all looked expectantly at the elderly doctor squinting down at them.

"Uhm, are you Spencer Reid's family?" The doctor scrutinized each one of their faces; none of them shared any resemblance with his patient.

"Yes, we are. How is he?" Morgan growled, not liking the look the doctor was giving him as he noticed his darker skin.

_People these days._

The old doctor's gray eyebrows shot up comically; if they were to increase in altitude, they most likely would land on the tiled ceiling.

He cleared his throat and started to explain the situation,

"Well, my name is Doctor Preston and I took care of Mr. Reid,"

He was cut off when the team members mumbled "Doctor Reid", simultaneously.

He awkwardly cleared his throat again before continuing, "Well, _Doctor_ Reid has suffered from several second degree burns on his face and torso. He also has gashes on his arms and legs that required some stitches."

The team looked confused at the Doctor who suddenly stopped.

Seeing their perplexed and slightly demanding faces, Doctor Preston sighed before grabbing a plastic chair to sit on. He turned the chair around so he was sitting with his arms crossed onto the top of the chair and stared into their eyes.

"Spencer Reid has also had severe trauma inflicted on his eyes. You see, everyone has blood vessels in their sclera, or the white part of your eye. Three of his blood vessels popped due to pieces of debris lodging itself in both of his eyes during the explosion. Doctor Reid had to go through surgery to repair the damaged vessels, and it was a success. However, I'm aware that he has contacts, but he may have to get a stronger prescription. Nothing drastic, though. Any questions?"

"Can we see him?" JJ asked after his lengthy speech.

"You may," He stood up from his chair and placed it back to its original position.

The team immediately got to their feet, more than ready to see their injured friend.

**xCMx**

JJ was the first to step into the dull hospital room. Pictures like the ones they saw hanging around the hospital furnished the bleak walls. There was a large window showing off the dark night sky and a tall lamp sat in the corner of the room, transmitting a small amount of light. In the middle of it all was a stiff but comfortable-looking hospital bed containing a very small and frail Spencer Reid.

Long legs that were covered up with a thin blanket barely touched the edge of the bed. Indignant stitches trailed along his equally long arms and the top of his hospital scrub peeked out from under the white blanket. Brown hair stuck out at odd angles and warm eyes were trapped behind a white bandage wrapped around his head.

He looked so pale and vulnerable.

JJ would have thought he was dead if his chest did not rise and fall rhythmically.

The rest of the team filed in, eager to check up on their damaged genius.

Hotch was concerned for the young man; Doctor Preston seemed surreptitious while explaining the damage done to Reid's eyes.

Morgan automatically grabbed a chair on the side of the room and scooted in closer to his surrogate little brother. JJ sat down on his left side and took one of Reid's hands in her own. Hotch took a chair and sat next to Morgan while Prentiss went to JJ's side. Rossi stood at the edge of the bed, watching as his young friend's body twitched slightly and a low moan escape his lips.

"Reid?" Prentiss asked, moving in closer to push some hair out of his face.

"C'mon, Pretty Boy. Open those big eyes for us," Morgan asked the awakening man.

But when Reid did open his eyes, he was greeted with darkness. He moved a hand to his face and felt something soft covering his face.

"Morgan?" he whimpered, terrified of the darkness that seemed to be consuming him, "It's dark."

Morgan swallowed the lump in his throat when he heard the broken voice of his best friend.

"I know, Kid. Don't worry, the doctor will be in soon to remove the bandages," he soothed the boy by reaching out and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He nodded and asked, "So, uh, what happened to my eyes?"

"Doc said you got some debris in your eyes and burst a couple blood vessels or something," Rossi paused, studying Reid for a moment before admitting softly, "You really know how to give someone a good scare, Kiddo."

Hotch nodded silently and JJ squeezed his hand gently.

He gulped nervously and started to wring his hands.

"Heh, sorry about that, guys. So, uhm, what about the UnSub?" Reid asked, trying to move away from the touchy topic of him causing his family to worry.

"Well, he obviously wasn't in the house. But we'll get him later. Just focus on getting better and getting out of the hospital, okay, Reid?" Hotch explained, making it clear from the slight tremble in his voice that he had been deeply concerned for their young genius.

Reid nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but the knock on the door interrupted him.

A young nurse walked in, striding purposefully to the side of Reid's bed.

"Hello, Doctor Reid. I'm here to remove your bandages. Can you sit up for me?" she asked in a perky voice.

He nodded and Morgan helped him sit up, being mindful of the bandages on his torso and legs.

The rest of the team backed away from the bed, letting the nurse do her job.

The nurse reached over with her scissors and snipped the back of the bandage off, letting it fall onto Reid's lap.

Reid just wrinkled his brow in confusion.

If the bandage was on his lap, then why was everything still dark?

The blonde nurse didn't even notice the tense silence around her or the confused look on Reid's face.

She reached over and picked up the bandage that was on Reid's lap, but stopped as she looked into the young man's eyes.

The lifeless, gray eyes.

The nurse gasped and immediately sprinted down the hall as fast as her high heels allowed her to.

Reid just sat there, still very confused.

"Guys? What just happened?" He moved a hand to his face and felt smooth skin.

"Spence," JJ gasped, looking into her friend's colorless eyes.

"Didn't the doctor say that nothing major happened?" Rossi asked rhetorically, becoming angrier at Doctor Preston by the second.

Doctor Preston then barged through the room with a mini flashlight in his hands and pushed passed the team.

He clicked the bottom of the device and shone it into Reid's eyes, trying to get a reaction from him.

But he just sat there, his eyebrows still raised.

"Uh, what's going on?" He opened and closed his eyes, trying to get the darkness to go away.

But it still remained, swallowing up the light, leaving nothing left for Reid.

The Doctor sighed, clearly annoyed by this situation, and turned towards the team.

"It appears that Doctor Reid is suffering from blindness," He informed the team with irritation in his eyes.

Morgan had had enough of this guy. He grabbed the man by the stethescope hanging around his neck and roared, "You think we don't know that? What didn't you tell us, man!"

"Morgan, calm down," Hotch ordered, pulling on Morgan's shoulders, effectively getting him to release the old man.

Doctor Preston took a couple deep breaths and explained, "Doctor Reid had a 30% chance of becoming blind. I did not inform you of these chances because they were so slim. The blindness may be temporary; it may not. We'll just have to wait."

Everyone stared in shock.

How could this have happened?

"So, I'm stuck like this?" Reid whispered sadly.

"Like I said, we'll have to see. Now if you don't mind, I have other patients to attend to. Have a goodnight, _Agents_," The aged doctor sneered and crept out of the room with the nurse following him obediently.

Hotch sighed, and looked at his team.

"Alright, we'll figure this out in the morning. One of us will stay with Reid, and the rest of us will go check into the hotel."

Morgan volunteered without hesitation and watched as they said their goodbyes.

Reid had already fallen asleep, physically and emotionally worn-out.

The older man sighed and put his feet up on the edge of Reid's bed.

It was going to be a long night.

**xCMx**

Morgan woke up with a jolt, wondering what had interrupted his slumber. Glancing around the hospital room, his eyes landed on the bed containing a thrashing bundle of blankets.

"No. I don't want it. No. NO. STOP. PLEASE, JUST STOP!" Reid screamed in his sleep, haunted by whatever images lay behind his eyelids.

Quickly getting up, he was by Reid's side in record time.

"Reid, c'mon, man. Wake up," Morgan shook Reid's shoulder, trying to wake up the younger man.

Reid briskly sat up and looked at him, slightly bewildered. He let out a sob as Morgan climbed onto the hospital bed next to him and engulfed the smaller man into a hug.

Reid cried out all of his anger, confusion, and sadness he had felt since the moment the doctor informed him he would be blind for a while. He felt for Morgan's shirt and gripped it, as if he were afraid that the older man would suddenly disappear into thin air.

"Hey, Kid. It's alright. Shh, it's gonna' be okay, Spencer." He slipped out Reid's first name without even realizing it; last names and nick names just didn't cut it for this situation.

After a few minutes Reid calmed down and sheepishly got out of Morgan's embrace. He reached for his face and felt silent tears still sliding down his cheeks. Self-consciously, he wiped them away with the back of his hand and sniffled.

"You okay, Reid?" Morgan asked, looking into the light gray eyes that used to be so brown and full of life. Now, the eyes looked like they had died and been buried into the gray ones that dominated Reid's face. Gray was actually what Reid's whole demeanor looked like. The kid was as pale as can be and he just looked devoid of life, as if the warm color in his hair and face faded with his eyes and now he was just gradually draining away.

He received an unsure nod.

Deciding to cheer up his forlorn 'brother', Morgan pulled himself up from the bed and headed towards Reid's messenger bag. Searching through it, he found a thick book with a Star Trek bookmark placed inside.

"Morgan?" Reid asked, trying to locate his best friend. He had heard footsteps and the sound of someone sifting through a bag, but he wasn't sure. He would give anything to be able to see again.

"I'm right here, Kid. Thought you might wanna' read this book."

"Uh, Morgan? I kind-of can't see at the moment, so I don't know how I'll be able to read it." Reid's eyebrows were raised and he looked slightly defeated with this confession.

"I know. But maybe I could read it to you?" Morgan wondered if maybe the young profiler just wanted to rest. But after a nightmare like that, he had an inkling that Reid was slightly embarrassed.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. That would actually be really nice." Reid said, smiling for the first time in what felt like ages. It was a small one, but it was still a smile.

Morgan nodded and sat next to his best friend.

Looking down at the cover of the book, he saw pigeons being set free with the word Locomotion on the bottom.

Opening the book to the place the bookmark held it, he cleared his throat and began to read.

_"Yeah, Little Brother, Rodney says. _  
><em>You don't know about shade till you lived upstate.<em>  
><em>Everybody should do it-even if it's just for a little while."<em>

Reid was starting to gradually relax; the nightmare was being erased from his subconscious with every sentence that filled up the otherwise silent hospital room.

_"Way off, I can see the park- blue-gray sky_  
><em>touching the tops of trees.<em>

_I had to live there awhile, Rodney said. _  
><em>Just to be with all that green, you know?<em>  
><em>I nod, even though I don't.<em>  
><em>I can't even imagine moving away from here, <em>  
><em>from Rodney's arm around my shoulder,<em>  
><em>from Miss Edna's Sunday cooking,<em>  
><em>from Lily in her pretty dresses and great big smile when she sees me.<em>

_Can't imagine moving away."_

Morgan pauses for a moment to swallow the lump growing in his throat.

_"From_  
><em>Home."<em>

Reid was now sinking into the pillows, trying to fight off sleep to hear the rest of the chapter. But he was exhausted and Morgan's words sounded so soothing, so he fell into a peaceful slumber.

_"You know what I love about trees, Rodney says._

_It's like. . . It's like their leaves are hands reaching _  
><em>out to you. Saying Come on over here, Brother.<em>  
><em>Let me just. . . Let me just. . .<em>  
><em>Rodney looks down at me and grins."<em>

Morgan looks at Reid's peaceful face untroubled in sleep.

Wrapping an arm around Reid, he whispered,

_"Let me just give you some shade for a while."_

**"All the world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming."**

**-Helen Keller**

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Oh, and if anyone is wondering about Garcia, she will be coming soon! I wouldn't forget about her. She's too awesome to forget about. :) <strong>

**Reviews are welcome~ **


	9. Mission Accomplished?

**A/N: Helloo! This is Chapter 9, as you can clearly see. I understand that Dr. Preston is a complete jerk, and I have big plans for him in the future. :) -Evil laugh- **

**_*Cough.*_ UHM, anyway, enjoy the chapter! Oh, yes, and the book quote from the previous chapter is from Locomotion. It's this really great book about an orphaned child who finds a loving family. The entire book are poems, and the poem I chose was "Almost a Summer Sky". Really cute moment between the main character and his new, older brother. It's by Jaqueline Woodson, and I recommend it!**

**I feel really bad for not updating in, like, two weeks. **

**BUT FRET NOT. (Heh. I love that word. 'Fret.')**

**UPDATES WILL NOT TAKE SO LONG TO UPLOAD ANYMORE. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. Or Hawaii; the United States owns Hawaii.**

**Warnings: Child Abuse. I will warn you when those scenes come. And some language. Not a lot, though. Just a bit.**

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><p><strong><em>"Nothing but heaven itself is better than a friend who is really a friend."<br>~Plautus_**

Penelope Garcia considers herself to be a patient, some-what professional woman. She always waited for the team to come home and tell her about the sick puppies they had to face earlier in the week. And her choice of clothing wasn't terrible. It just didn't scream technical-analyst-genius-from-the-FBI.

Plus, she was calm. She only freaked out sometimes when one of her colleagues came back injured. She might have lost it just a_ teeny_ bit when Reid came back from his sick-leave when he got infected with anthrax. And it may have not been the best idea to slap Morgan across the face and then pull him into a bear hug when he decided to scare the life out of her. Then again, he was partially at fault; he _was_ the one who drove that ambulance with the bomb in it.

But when she had not received any type of communication for about twenty freakin' hours, "Baby Girl" and "Tech Kitten" were no more. An irritated tech-analyst that could wipe you off the face off the Earth, so to speak, replaced her.

Oh, and she was not happy. Not one bit.

The usually perky tech-analyst's leg bounced up and down, rumpling the white dress she had put on that day.

The light blue corsage she had put on this morning was also disoriented along with the make-up smudging her face.

She alternated between chewing on the pink-beaded necklace around her neck and twiddling a fluffy pen.

Garcia ran her fingers through her hair, trying to fix the blonde mess.

She suddenly stood up from the spiny chair and began to pace, gripping the black heels in her hand.

"Okay, alright, calm down, Penlope. They probably saved the day, and returned to the hotel for a relaxing swim. It is Hawaii, after all. Hotch is probably swimming in a tie, and Morgan is flirting with girls and Reid is saying statistics, and Em is just lounging around and all is absolutely perfect in the world, not counting that you are muttering to yourself, Girl." Penelope mumbled, pacing back and forth.

She glanced at the clock longingly, before realizing what time it was.

"Oh my God, no, no, no. No one swims at like four in the morning. Well, most people don't. Reid would know how many people swim before dawn," She threw her hands up, feeling more frustrated and scared than she remembered being in awhile. The last time she did feel this way, Foyet had killed Haley while they had to listen to her dying request to her ex-husband.

Ridding her head of such dark thoughts, she plopped herself back in her office chair, grabbed a stress ball, and jammed a phone number into her phone.

After ringing a few times, the answer machine picked up,

_"Hello, this is SSA Derek Morgan. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now, leave a message and I'll try to get back to you. Bye."_

"Derek Morgan, if I do not receive a phone call, text message, Facebook status, Tweet, or some type of communication to let me know that I am being absolutely ridiculous about worrying about my babies in the next ten minutes, I will photo-shop you all the way into a pair of chaffs!"

She angrily pounded her pen onto the phone once more and sighed.

There was nothing to worry about, right? She didn't have to call anybody else, right? She didn't need to track their phones, right? They were grown FBI Agents.

. . ._ Right?_

Decision made, she planted her fingers onto the keyboard and quickly tried to locate her team's cell phones.

_Nothing._

Groaning, she wracked her brain to try to think of where they might be.

As an idea struck her, Garcia resumed typing until she found what she was looking for.

Dr. Spencer Reid's hospital records.

Which said he had signed in around midnight.

She gasped in surprise before printing out the hospital's name and a ticket to Hawaii.

_"I'm coming,"_ she thought determined, striding out of the BAU building,_ "Hold on, my babies, I'm coming."_

**xCMx (A/N; Warning, Child Abuse scene. :O) **

The boy confidentially strode through the front door of his house, feeling pleased for the first time in a long time. He had accomplished his mission. Not only did he accomplish it, though, but he did a good job. A great job.

"Hey, Dad. I'm home," he whispered to himself, louder than he had attended judging by the heavy pounding of footsteps.

"How many times do I have to tell you, boy," the older man growled, creeping up towards the teenager, "I am not Dad. I am 'Sir'. I am 'Him.' Do you understand me!"

A harsh slap to the face had him seeing stars and he stumbled backwards into the wall, banging his head with a sickening thud.

"I didn't hear an answer!" he was now face-to-face with his son, staring directly into the blue eyes filled with fear.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Sir,"

"Good," He stepped even closer, if possible, the kid's face, the stench of alcohol filling his son's nose.

He whimpered again, hoping that He was sober enough to listen to his pleas.

"I d-did the mission, Sir. I did good. T-the agents are all in the hospital w-with their friend," He shrunk back into the wall even more when his father raised his hand.

The man simple chuckled darkly, with a disturbed look in his eyes.

He lovingly patted the boy's hair as he flinched and announced, "Oh, you look just like your mother. You sound like her too,"

The man suddenly lunged at him, taking a fistful of his shirt and pinned him against the wall.

"I hated that woman," He shouted, banging him against the wall before throwing him into the coffee table.

"P-please, I did- I did good!" he begged.

The older man shook his head, looking utterly disgusted, and pulled his belt through the worn jean's loops.

"Ooh, Sammy-boy. You are pathetic. You did not distract them, you only told them about my description! You told them information I told you specifically not to tell! Worthless," he sneered, grabbing the back of Samuel's shirt and throwing him against the wall.

"You should have never been born. Why couldn't you be like your little sister? She could have done this! But, no, I was stupid enough to think that an immature child could actually do this," Ripping off the flannel shirt covering the older scars on Samuel's back, he folded up the belt and placed a hand on his lower back.

"Good thing I called reinforcements," the man whispered evilly into his ear, suddenly raising the belt.

**xCMx (A/N; Okay, it's over. (: )**

JJ laid down on her back, utterly exhausted by the today's- yesterday's events, she corrected herself, staring at the clock hanging in the hotel room.

Hotch and Rossi were in the next room, but judging by the lack of loud snoring they normally heard, they weren't sleeping, either.

Emily was also laying on her back on the bed next to hers, staring emptily at the ceiling.

Morgan and Reid would have been in the room directly across from their's, but instead, an UnSub decided to blow up their genius and land him in the hospital.

Blind.

JJ held back a sob as she realized Reid must be scared right now. He had confided in the team about his fear of the dark, complaining about the lack of light. But JJ knew there was more to his fear than he let on.

But now the darkness surrounded him, possibly forever. He could not escape it.

Even if everyone was miserable, at least they weren't surrounded by their greatest fear.

Pressing her hands to her head to ward off the migraine constantly making itself known, she tried to relax into the comfy hotel bed enough to go to sleep.

Sadly, the sand man never did come.

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><p><strong>Ah! Sorry about it being kinda' short and ending suddenly.<strong>

**I have piano practice like, right now!**

**I just wanted to update really quickly.**

**More updates on Thursday and Friday!**

**Thank you for reading and suggestions/reviews/constructive-criticism are greatly appreciated.**

**Bye!**


	10. Nightmares

**A/N: I deeply apologize for taking so long to update! I did a poll on my profile to see which story will be finished first, and The Blind Beauty of it All won! I didn't really like this chapter. It was just... wrong, I guess. So, I have fixed it, and here it is! Garcia isn't in it yet. I have saved her for a special purpose. (:**

**For future reference, this story will be about 20 chapters long.**

**Warnings FTC: Flashback of non-consensual drug use, violence, a Morgan-punch to a certain jerk-Dr.'s face, reference to murder, a Bible quote, and a creepy dream. Don't like? Don't read, please. **

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Criminal Minds!**

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><p><em><strong>I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons.<br>**__**It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?**_

_**~John Lennon**_

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><p><em>|He ran, his curly hair blowing away from his face. The sky was dark, the sun covered by a thick fog. The leaves crushed under his aching legs, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop, not even if he told himself to. He was acting on pure instinct at this point.<em>

_The ground suddenly rumbled, and he tripped over himself, landing in a thick pile of leaves.|_

Derek Morgan wasn't surprised to be awoken by whimpers and movements from his right. He _was_ angry, though. Not at the man who was causing said whimpers and movements, but at their situation. Reid, innocent, puppy-eyed Reid, was facing yet another trial in his life; one that he shouldn't have to face.

_I wonder how many people get kidnapped, drugged, extract anthrax, shot, and blown up by a psychopath in just five years. I bet Reid would know_, Morgan thought as his lips twitched into a smile, but it quickly turned into a frown. The poor kid had woken up from a nightmare at least three times that night, twice before he had read to him, and once after. And it looked like he was having another one.

_|Reid watched as all of the unsaveable victims crawled up from the ground. He tried to conceal himself in the pile of leaves, but they still found him, moaning his name._

_"Why couldn't you save me?" A little girl suddenly said, her young voice monotone as she hugged her teddy bear to her chest. Her nightgown was torn at the edges and spots of blood decorated it._

_"We were s'posed to go to Disney," Her voice seemed sad, her held now titled to the side. _

_"Why, Spe'cer?" She inquired. A man appeared behind her and settled a large hand on her shoulder. She looked up at the man, and he stared back down. He was young, his blonde hair covered in leaves and a black hoodie hanging loosely from his frame._

_"Murderer," he sneered, his narrowed eyes now staring at Reid, "You killed them!"_

_He shook his head profusely, trying to ignore the man as he repeated the words over and over._

_"Yes! Spencer Reid, you murdered them! You're a child murderer!" In his free hand he held up a thick branch, waving it threatenly in the air as his deep voice kept accusing him._

_Then, the young man's voice changed from threatening to quick and scared, "Luke, Luke 18:15: B-but, Jesus called the c-children to him and said, 'Let the little children come to me, a-and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of G-God belongs to such as these.' It's alright, they're with God, now!"_

_"Shut up, boy!" The man was arguing with himself now, his facial expressions changing with the voices.|_

Morgan whispered reassuring words to the younger man as he whimpered, trying to drag Reid out of his nightmare without actually waking him up. He needed sleep, and Morgan really didn't want him waking up again to darkness, even though yellow and orange rays filled the hospital room.

_|Reid suddenly felt a fist connect with his jaw. He looked up, startled to find himself in the same warehouse he was in three years ago. He tried to defend himself from the harsh blows by raising his hands in front of his face, but that only confirmed his suspicions; they were handcuffed to one of the bars under the chair, effectively rendering him useless. The fist reigned down mercilessly for what seemed like hours._

_Finally, it retreated, but then he heard the unmistakable sound of a belt whooshing through jean loops._

_He was already shaking his head before Tobias even approached him._

_Tobias walked up to his chair and squatted next to him, his eyebrows raised slightly. His gentle blue eyes connected with Reid's scared, brown ones as he pulled up the younger man's sleeve, revealing the old track marks._

_"It helps," he whispered soothingly. He took out a needle already filled with Dilaudid and stuck it in the crook of Reid's elbow, still remaining eye contact with him._

_His world began to spin and his head limply dropped to his chest._

_The drug swirled through his veins, making him dizzy with the blissful high. But he didn't want this; he was clean now, and he didn't want to feel that again.|_

"No, _stop_. It, it doesn't," Reid whimpered, trapped in a nightmare.

Morgan sighed sadly and reached over to wake him up, when suddenly the door opened, revealing Dr. Preston.

_|He lifted his head up from his chest, surprised that the effects of the drug were wearing off so quickly. But, once again, he was in a different location. Leaves were scattered around the ground, and tombs were positioned everywhere. Graveyard, then. But, why...?_

_"Dig faster, boy," He looked up at the voice and let out a strangled sob. He was going to be buried alive. He sneaked a peak over his shoulder, and when he found no lights radiating off of his team's flashlights and heard no quiet footsteps, he realized he was really going to be buried alive. And no one was coming to save him._

_The grave was dug quicker than he thought, and he suddenly felt hands grabbing at him, picking him up from the cold ground._

_Tobias was practically lifting him off the ground with his hands on his shoulders. He looked for the gentleness in the blue eyes, but only found coldness._

_"Rapheal," He sucked in a breath as Rapheal actually lifted him off the ground._

_"It's God's Will, boy," Rapheal stated before he threw him into the hole.|_

The doctor ran into the room, paying no attention to Morgan, and shook his patient rather roughly.

_|Dead arms reached out from the sides of the cramped grave, and he screamed until his throat hurt. He was still falling into the deep grave, whatever sunlight there was now completely gone.|_

Reid snapped awake, flailing his arms around wildly.

"What the hell, man!" Morgan rose his voice angrily. He couldn't believe that he just did that to Reid. When he was sitting right next to him, too.

"No, no, stop! Help me! Morgan, help!" Reid cried, not fully coherent yet.

Morgan was furious; this doctor was way out of line, and he had had enough of it.

He jumped to his feet and grabbed the man from behind, successfully getting him away from Reid.

"You need to back-off, man! You're way out of line!"

"No, _Agent_," Morgan growled quietly at Dr. Preston's tone, "_you_ are out of line. This is my patient, and as his doctor, I have the right to treat him how ever I please!"

Morgan couldn't help it; he pulled his fist back and smirked as it collided with the older man's nose with a **crack**.

Of course, at that exact moment, a nurse happened to step into the room, holding a chart and studying it intently.

"So, Dr. Reid, how are you feeling-"

She looked up mid-sentence and gawked.

Dr. Preston, noticing the nurse, started groaning as he held his nose with both hands.

Morgan just stood there bewildered. _This guy is absolutely insane_, he thought bitterly.

Reid was more coherent now, looking wildly around the room with sightless eyes. He thought he heard a fist connect with someone's nose, and then someone entering the room. Maybe they could sort this out for him.

"Dr. Preston!" The aged nurse quickly got over her shock and ran over to her superior, glaring at the agent who stood there in front of them.

"But, he was," Morgan trailed off, completely dumbfounded. He couldn't believe this.

The nurse just shook her head and walked over to the wall by her patient. She hit the intercom button, and yelled, "Security!"

Reid flinched and looked in the general direction of the voice. It was an old lady, and she sounded a bit panicked and very upset.

"Uh, nurse? What's wrong?"

The nurse jumped a little and stared down at the confused man on the hospital bed.

"Oh, don't worry, honey. Just a little fight. Security will sort it all out," she comforted him, trying to explain the situation as gently as possible. She realized that the team of FBI agents were practically a family, and she didn't want to upset the young man by telling him that his friend punched his doctor in the nose.

But Reid could see through her facade; after all, he wasn't a profiler for nothing.

"Morgan?" He called out, his voice trembling a little.

"Kid, it's okay. Just a misunderstanding. I'll sort it out with the hospital staff and call the team to get down here as soon as they can," Morgan also tried to soothe him, but it didn't work, judging by how Reid's heart monitor started to pick up a bit.

"What? Morgan, don't leave. Y-You can't leave," Reid's gray eyes started to water. First, he has to face his first morning of becoming blind after being blown up by a freaking psychopath, and now his best friend is leaving him to face it alone?

"Reid, don't worry. It'll be okay. Just hang in there, man."

Two security guards showed up at the door, looking determined.

The nurse simply pointed at Morgan, and they nodded in understanding.

"C'mon, Kid. You're coming with us," The older security guard roughly grabbed one of Morgan's arms and stared at his rookie to do the same.

The young guard immediately grabbed Morgan's other big bicep and escorted him out of the room along with his partner.

"_Morgan_!" Reid cried, feeling his arm for the IV and trying to take it out.

"Dr. Reid!" The nurse scolded, taking his hands in her's.

"No, _Morgan_!"

She sadly shook her head. She grabbed both of Reid's hands in one of hers and reached for a syringe on the cart next to her.

She stuck the sedative in her patient's IV port and watched as he eventually calmed down.

"Morgan..." he whispered before reluctantly settling in his bed and closing his eyes.

The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was someone tucking the blankets around his thin form.

**xOoOoOoOoOoOox**

Dr. Preston assured the nurse he was fine after she sedated the young man. The bleeding had stopped, and now his nose just slightly ached.

His grinned and looked around the locker room, checking to make sure that he was alone. Digging through his lab coat pocket, he found his cellphone and flipped it open.

Typing in a familiar number, he waited a few seconds before the man on the other end picked up.

_"Hello?"_

"Sir?"

_"Yes, Doctor?"_ Dr. Preston smirked, thinking they were oh-so-clever.

"The treatments were a success and you should be fully healed within a week,"

_"Thank-you, Doctor. I assume that the illness was taken care of?"_

Dr. Preston, remembering Agent Morgan, smirked, and answered, "Of course it was, Mr. Thomas Walt Philips."

'Thomas' smiled evilly on the other end.

_"Perfect."_

* * *

><p><strong>CLIFFY. Maniacal laugh.<strong>

**And, yes, you have seen that name before.**

**Thanks for reading and reviews are welcome! :D**


	11. EXTREMELY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!

IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!

1. I am so, so, so, so sorry for posting this author's note. I feel extremely mean, right now for not giving you guys a new chapter.

2. Now, about that last part about a new chapter, it's technically true. But, it's technically not. Confusing, I know.

3. I did upload a new chapter. Sort-of. I edited chapter 10, and I completely changed it so, uh, read it.

4. This will be about 20 chapters long.

5. There will be updates every Monday, Thursday, Friday, and weekends. If there isn't, something probably happened and I will try to make up for that by posting a long chapter.

6. Once again, I am extremely sorry for posting this Auhtor's Note!

7. Tomorrow, the real chapter 11 will be uploaded.

8. Thank-you for reading, and be sure to check out the new chapter 10!


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